Friday, December 27, 2024

Jordi Núñez | Píxeles (Pixels) / 2015

minutiae in the breakdown of the image

by Douglas Messerli

 

Jordi Núñez (screenwriter and director) Píxeles (Pixels) / 2015 [12 minutes]

 

The two lovers who begin this film, Edu (Javier Amann) and Adri (Miguel Ángel Amor), Adri already accusing the quite handsome Edu of being an ugly mutt, a boxer dog, when inevitably his face will fall into old age, Edu imitating a lonely, crying dog.


    By the second section of the movie Adri is already sketching a portrait of another tenant in the building, Tristán (Ferando Hevia), who stands posing in his underwear as Edu enters the room, and although the two lovers, Edu and Adri have passionate sex later, Edu wants to determine whether or not his lover was turned on by the handsome Tristán. Yes, Adri admits, the model is really hot, but he loves Edu, and obviously he wouldn’t fuck him.


     But the distance between them has already been established, and with his friend Sara (Laura Minguell), Edu has already established he fear that he is losing his hair. Moreover, their neighbor Tristán wants to attend their party to meet the “hot girls” Sara and Linda (Andrea Sánchez).

     Indeed, Paula (Nakarey Fernández), one of Edu and Adri’s female friends is ready immediately to jump into bed with cute-boy Tristán, Adri, the artist, filming them up close with his cellphone, while Edu looks judgmentally on. When Paula spills a bit on wine of Tristán’s undershirt, Adri demands he go into their bedroom a pick out another shirt. Why, wonders Edu, might he not return to his own apartment in the same building, and why did he pick out one of his shirts which clearly looks better on his lean body?


     Adri realizes something has changed, asking “Are you going to move? Or are you staying home?” This is not a question one can just ignore, but is addressed more as a challenge, Edu already realizing that his lover may not even care which of the two options he chooses. Edu no longer feels like following the others on their round of bars.

    This is the way so many gay relationships fall apart, through moments of paranoia, of fears of aging and loss of youthful good looks, of the lack of the other mate’s full attention. So many gay men, who were never taught to comprehend their worth regarding their social and workplace gifts and talents, have come to depend on only their good looks, their youth. Edu is terrified of his seemingly disappearing hairline, while Tristán has such a full head of curly red hair.

     Well, they’ll talk it out in the morning. Edu returns to the bathroom to squeeze more of the hair-restoring agent on his already full head of hair.

     What Edu can’t know, as he slowly tears down Adri’s drawings of himself posted across his walls, is that pissed by the women’s constant questions about why Edu has not joined them, Adri walks against a red light into his death.

     Edu’s cracked cellphone screen cannot even permit the joys of the pictures of their past relationship.


    Pixels are the bits and pieces that together form the image displayed on your screen, and it is precisely such tiny fragments which have pulled apart the full image of their loving sexual relationship.

    Spanish director Jordi Núñez’s short film is not profound, but certainly reiterates the problem of letting the daily minutiae of life destroy the full picture of what is actually happening.

 

Los Angeles, December 27, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

Martín Rodríguez Redondo | Marilyn / 2018

the vultures

by Douglas Messerli

 

Martín Rodríguez Redondo (screenwriter and director) Marilyn / 2018

 

This Argentine-Chilean feature film is based on the real-life story of Marilyn (Marcelo Bernasconi), a newspaper story figure who lived, as does the 17-year-old hero of the film Marcos (Walter Rodríguez), in the rural outback of Argentina, not a good place for a gay boy coming of age.



     The family rents the farm from a nearby rancher, and they work hard to make a living with a herd of cattle that are often subject to cattle rustlers, who kill the animals on the spot before dragging their carcasses off. For Marco’s loving father Carlos (Germán de Silva) it’s an extremely hard life, and Marco’s older brother Carlitos (Ignacio Giménez), who is an unthinking brute of a man always ready for the hard work but without any imagination to relieve him from his own strenuous efforts, and his stone-faced, cold-hearted wife, Olga (Catalina Saavedra) work equally hard to make the ranch survive. Recognizing Marcos as an exceptional being, Carlos is determined that he will get an education, eventually perhaps being able to support the entire family with his more exalted position as a computer technician or even possibly a teacher.


     What he doesn’t quite perceive is that Marcos, although a good student, is himself unsure of his identity, constantly stealing his own mother’s clothing—some of which he himself has suggested she should buy to be more stylish in her wardrobe—and he also sews, making his own dress for the local celebration of the Argentinian Carnival.

      Suddenly, however, his father dies of the long hard work he’s been doing for some many years, changing the young boy’s entire life, as he is put to work with his brother, milking cows, and touring the large ranch in search of the dangers of intruders and rustlers, tasks at which he is not very adept and for which he is mocked by his brother and friends.

      Still, he secrets away material, sews up a black dress, and transforms himself into a glamorous young female for the Carnival celebration.

       Jay Weissberg, writing in Variety, nicely describes the complete transformation that occurs for the young faced with a life of enforced labor as he transforms himself into the Marilyn that, after his Carnival appearance, a local bar in song defines his new existence:

 

“The teenager’s almost blank passivity does become monotonous, but then there’s a carnival fiesta in town and Marcos transforms himself into an energized, stunning woman, flashing a bewitching smile and reveling in displaying his dance moves. The actor’s sudden, infectious animation blows open the film’s earlier staid caution, bringing Marcos alive in wig, make-up and sexy outfit as he suggestively shows off to homophobic, possibly closeted, rancher’s son Facundo (Rodolfo García Werner). On the way home with his only friend Laura (Josefina Paredes), a bunch of guys pull them over; Marcos tells her to go, and he’s brutally raped.”


     The boy who fucks him is the son of the same wealthy rancher who is fucking over his mother and brother by now demanding full payment for the ranch that they have long been renting. In a sense, Marcos hardly registers the nightmare he has just experienced. In some respects, we can imagine, it is the payment he realizes must be made for his difference; and there is a part of him that simultaneously that takes a self-destructive joy in realizing that in female dress he has been able to attract such a sexual reaction, as brutal and homophobic as it was. In pain, heavily bruised and clearly suffering the indignation of the event, he slowly marches home, his friend Laura finally returning on her scooter to bring him home.


       His mother, as unperceptive and ignorant as she is, immediately recognizes the bruises on his face for what they are, and gently mends his wounds, but at the same time dutifully searches through his drawers, gathering up all his feminine apparel and burning them in the yard as Marcos watches, tears running down his face. In the inverted world in which he is made to endure life, it difficult to know whether the rape or his mother’s total rejection of his identity is more devastating. At least the boys who raped him recognized him for what he was; his mother is determined clearly to make him into another being.

       The rancher who owns their property now arrives with further news of cattle rustling, and insists that both Carlitos and Marcos join and him and Facundo him in search of the criminals. They find only a cow in the midst of dying, which the rancher demands Marco immediately shoot to put him out of his misery. Yet Marcos, the secret fairy, lover, and transsexual cannot pull the trigger of macho authority. Carlitos pulls out his own rifle to take the cow down.

       The local rancher, not truly a mean man, announces however that if they cannot pay the money they owe him in a month or so that he has no choice but to force them out of the home in which they have lived for decades. He suggests they look into buying one of the hundreds block houses that other such farmers and residents of the nearby town are buying up on bank loans.

      Marcos’ mother and brother take a trip into town to see what these still unfinished houses might look like, determining that despite the hospitable ranch house they now inhabit, they are a liveable alternative, only to discover that without a supporter or money to put down as a loan they have left out of the new wave of the local bourgeoisie. But when Marcos is sent to bring back some bottles of water for the thirst pilgrims of his brother and mother, he encounters a young gay man Federico (Andrew Bargsted), who is totally enchanted by the lovely young farm boy Marcos, and who himself has already purchased one of the block houses.

      Marcos, sneaking out to visit him, develops a loving relationship with Federico which suggests all sorts of new possibilities to the suffering rural gay boy. He even invites him to his home, without bothering to explain the cold reception he is surely to receive by Carlitos and Olga, neither of which can be bothered by even speaking to him. When Marcos’ mother later discovers the boys having sex in broken down car on their property, she pulls out her rifle and sends Federico packing.


     Poor Marco, still clueless, keeps trying the contact his lover without a response, Federico obviously being furious that his friend had not explained the true situation of his family life.

     As if things were not bad enough, now Olga and Carlitos become almost paranoid, turning off lights and even candles when anyone approaches the house to pretend they are not at home, clearly fearful of the inevitable foreclosure and eviction. In punishment for Marcos’ continued attempts to contact his ex-lover, they pull away his one remaining communication with the outside world, his cellphone, leaving him to a life of lonely desperate terror.

      This peaceful, dreaming lover finally can no longer bear the world in which he has been forced to imagine his dreadful future. In the middle of the night, he quietly gets up, pulls down one of the family rifles and returns the communal bedroom where he shoots his brother and mother, killing them both. Marilyn has finally had her vengeance and in the same moment destroyed herself as opposed to letting them gradually tear away any remains of her existence.


     Premiering at the Berlin Film Festival in 2018, this cinematic masterwork is about as bleak as gay cinema can imagine itself. And although I truly loved this film, I suspect its dark vision is why I could not immediately write about it.

 

Los Angeles, December 24, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (December 2024).

Thursday, December 26, 2024

Caitlin McLeod | One Like Him / 2022

different directions

by Douglas Messerli

 

Tareq Baconi and Caitlin McLeod (screenplay), Caitlin McLeod (director) One Like Him / 2022

[16 minutes]

 

As children Karim (the teenage version played by Mohammed Nizar, the adult by Kais Nashif) was in love with Ramzi (Hamzeh Shaker Mahadin and Loai Noufi), but when Ramzi’s mother found a love note that he had written Ramzi, any contact the boys might have continued to make was cut off.


    Years later, the two meet up in the city, Karim now an openly gay man, and Ramzi a straight man with a new-born daughter. Karim brings him a letter in an envelope to read later, and attempts to speak to his childhood lover about their lives then and now.

     Various possibilities of that communication are played out, with, in the first case, Ramzi simply walking out and refusing to permit Karim’s confessions from even being expressed. In a second version, more gets set, but ends up equally bad. In a third version of this Rashomon-like playing out of past events, Ramzi chastises Karim for having refused all further communication, arguing that even if they might have gone in different sexual directions there still might have been years of friendship and understanding.

     We cannot know which version of this frustrated attempt to communicate in Arabic that does not even allow the words to express Karim’s sexuality, In all versions, the enveloped communication that Karim suggests that Ramzi should read later, is soaked in the whisky Ramzi spills in their angry and hurt conversation, and is left behind, unopened.


     The director herself describes the tense situation:These two Jordanian men and what they say to each other in the context of present day Amman is so powerful in this story that our approach was to showcase those elements as much as possible. There is a magnetic stasis to the shots that allow us to feel each twitch of a cheek or a jaw tightening. We are real and up close and personal.

     At the same time the film sits in a surreal, fantasy space. The elements, emotions, energies disrupt reality and make us (and Karim) question what is real and what is imagined. Overall we want an audience to think about what "closure" really means in relation to personal identity and another person.”

     In such a world, it appears closure is not possible, since each time the epistle brought as a token by Karim to Ramzi is left behind. In the last moments of the film, he opens the letter to reveal that it is a wedding invitation between him and a man named Tobias, obviously presented Ramzi as a token of a past that was never permitted to exist in their culture, and most certainly a direction closed off to his friend.


     Apparently, it is still a reality that is not permitted to exist in men like Ramzi’s world. Yet, in such a world even the victim is also the perpetrator of the homophobia that pervades the culture. McLeod expresses it quite succinctly:

 

 “The film looks at the significance and consequences of what is spoken and unspoken. Karim has been living with the burden of what has gone unsaid, never having had the words or language to describe himself. He never had a chance to explain to his childhood friend and first love how he felt. In this conversation, Karim finally finds the courage to speak his truth. But each time he comes up against obstacles – in himself and in Ramzi - and the moment is not cathartic. Saying ‘I am gay’ in English alienates Ramzi, who finds the expression ‘undignified’. Then none of the words in Arabic feel quite right. Karim finally loses control of the moment. He lets go of the need for Ramzi to understand him. He accepts that, as limited and reductive as his language might be, at least it’s honest. And that is when something unexpected happens: Karim hears that he was accepted and loved all along. No one turned away from him. He had, in fact, turned away from himself.”

 

Los Angeles, December 26, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

Don Roy King (director) | Porn Doctor (The Doctor Is in My Butt 4) / 2016 [TV (SNL) episode]

serious medical attention

by Douglas Messerli

 

Don Roy King (director) Porn Doctor (The Doctor Is in My Butt 4) / 2016 [4.50 minutes] [TV (SNL) episode]

 

On this January 17, 2016 episode of Saturday Night Live, Adam Driver performed or was at least

trying to perform the role of a porn doctor, Doctor Rockhard, concentrated on his hunky patient’s (Beck Bennett) problems with his upper thighs. Rockhard quickly finds the problem and is busy “handling” the situation when an unexpected patient (Aidy Bryant) intrudes, explaining that she is quite ill and she and her mother have been waiting quite a long time.



    Rockhard attempts to get rid of her as soon as possible, but even before she’s out of the room, she overhears the doctor explaining that there might be other ways to pay for the necessary operations of the mouth procedures and other medical insertions, the patient being a bottom, the doctor the top(s). Bryant explains that perhaps he can also find a way to help her and her mother, since their insurance doesn’t kick in until the next month.


    Even the confused Porn Doctor explains that, well perhaps he can work out something with her mother, but, no, the overweight teen who is evidently in deep pain is not someone he can operate on without insurance and assurances moreover from his crew.


     The skit keeps trying to return to the porn film obviously being taped, and her intrusions are becoming a problem as the skit talks about everything from “blue balls” to how he might make his patient’s groin even “more sore.” The medical talk, she proclaims, is way over her head, particularly when a group of muscular medical doctors (Taran Killam, Kyle Mooney, Pete Davidson, and Jon Rudnitsky) join in the joyful search for a cure to all the problems that the poor football-playing patient and each other have long been suffering.

     This is a gay skit worthy of the best of the SNL series, which seldom worried about the consequences of their bawdy gay humor

 

Los Angeles, December 26, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema (December 2024).

 

 

 

Yu-Tong Weng | 宵禁 (Undercurrent) / 2020

love in a crisis

by Douglas Messerli

 

Yu-Tong Weng (screenwriter and director) 宵禁 (Undercurrent) / 2020 [20 minutes]

 

In Taiwan movie-maker’s 2020 film Undercurrent, which contains no dialogue, we are sent back in time to the winter of 1979, with the city was under curfew due to the anti-governmental protesters involved in the “Formosa Incident,” during the pro-democracy demonstrations that occurred in Kaohsiung.


    In this wordless drama we have no idea why the young teenager (Lee-Fong Huang) is still out wandering in the late night, although we might suspect that, despite a current girlfriend, he might be seeking out the sex that several others seem to be exploring in the local park, its public toilet, and nearby derelict hut into which he follows a handsome young youth (Lee-Fong Huang). Nothing sexual goes on between the teen and the youth except a gift of a cigarette and the great many languorous looks they exchange. Eventually the youth moves out of the enclosure into the park where we can see a number of other men also wandering.

      The official film description ponders whether these men, living under martial law, are “constantly escaping from their government, the society, or the affection buried in their hearts,” but any gay man can tell you outright, these are not political revolutionaries but perhaps equally troublesome men who are protesting the silencing of their hearts.


     Being gay in such a culture is perhaps just as dangerous as having political views, but even the policeman (Ming-fan Wu), when he finally arrives, is not interested in the older queers, including the handsome youth, but is perfectly ready to take the teenager into custody, whom he soon attempts to rape in his car.

       The boy puts up a good fight, and is finally tossed out into the now rainy streets, bruised and psychologically broken by the event.


        He attempts to move back toward the only safety he as found in the park toilet, but has no longer any energy. The youth reappears and helps him back to their refuge. When he attempts to undress the totally wet youth, the boy pulls away, the youth simply sitting beside him while the exhausted teen finally lays his head upon this lap, the older boy gifting him another cigarette and gently stroking his head.

       The government is something to be feared in every way possible, while the society outsiders, it appears, can mostly be trusted to offer up love for those like them who are lost and have no way to find their way back home into a society that provides them with few opportunities to be themselves.

        This is a lovely, mostly quiet movie that uses nature and the natural pull of love to great effect while opposing it to the intense lights shined into faces and the brutal assaults of the so-called normalized regime of hate.

 

Los Angeles, December 26, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Gabriel Borgetto, Matthias Bäuerle, and Bernd Faaß | Studies on Hysteria / 2012

the intolerant nudists

by Douglas Messerli

 

Gabriel Borgetto, Matthias Bäuerle, and Bernd Faaß (screenwriters and directors) Studies on Hysteria / 2012 [8 minutes]

 

Calling up the major early German study of Studies on Hysteria from 1895 by Sigmund Freud and physician Josef Breuer, Borgetto’s, Bäuerle’s, and Faaß’ dark comic film of 2012, Adam (Philip Wilhelmi) discovers in the world in which he lives like all his people totally naked, a pair of blue jeans, gifted to him by two dressed angelic forest dwellers.


    Adam takes the pants home, not knowing what quite to make of them, they are of rather harsh material, but given the intricacy of the stitching must, he argues, have been soft of caring individuals. And he isn’t quite sure how to wear them, first attempting to enter then headfirst, and place the pantlegs around his neck.


     Finally, as he tosses them down in disgust beside him in his bed, he suddenly recognizes that they are meant to adorn his legs, and in a sudden moment becomes the ancient world’s first James Dean, daring to present his denim covered body to a world of intentional nudity. Although a few women are utterly delighted by his new style, most of the community is outranged, shocked my the quite apparent difference in his dress from the undress of all the others.

      In a kind of psychological upbraiding of all of Freud’s and Breuer’s theories, this new Adam is the source of outrage not because he has dreams of nakedness, but because he dares to travel down the town lanes in our notion of naturalness, polite denim pants. Something is clearly different in the community, and it not just our now totally queer hero, but is sensed in the quietness of the village. Community members have already marked his house with a bloody message of shame.


      The naked priest of the community (Moritz Berg) has already gathered his naked community behind him to forsake and punish the sinner who dares to wear pants.

      It is not female hysteria, but a male version of “extreme emotion and frenzied behavior” that characterizes the community outrage and they grab hold of the well-dressed sinner and put a noose around his neck.

      The narrative voice asks of himself, is he obsessed, but realizes that living without his pants is not a possibility—at which point the small stool on which stands is pushed away as he is hung.


     We realize obviously that this short film is a masterful satire of societal and sexual difference, by I must admit, as Dr. Barry Nyle commented on his Letterboxd review, “the only problem[ is] that it feels like a commercial of Jeans more than a poignant allegory.” If only Levi Strauss and Co. or American Giant, Bullet Blues, Bridge or Boro, Gustin, or Rouge Territory could have gotten their dirty paws on this little German gem.

     Thank heaven they didn’t, and the short film still serves as a remarkable statement of male hysteria against the difference of those males who dare to express that they are not part of the heterosexual normality of the culture at large. Even Freud might have learned some big lessons from little satire.

 

Los Angeles, December 25, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).

Index R-Z

Angelo Raaijmakers I, Adonis / 2021 Peeter Rabane Firebird / 2021   Tyler Rabinowitz Catalina / 2022 Tyler Rabinowitz See You Soon / 20...